Baby Blues
by LittleMistressLoki
Summary: A magical mistake leaves Loki in charge of the Avengers...erm, the Kidvengers? Two shot.
Loki sprawled out (not without his usual grace, of course) on the pull out couch, wondering where, just _where oh where,_ had he gone wrong in trying to capture Midgard.

Why would humans not want to be ruled by him? Some of them, _fangirls_ as the Thor's companions called them, were more then willing to surrender themselves to Loki. But what about the rest?

Maybe it was his outfit. Midgardians didn't wear armor or capes. Maybe they thought- no, his outfit was fabulous. And with the helmet and the scepter, he looked gorgeous- well, Mother always said he was incredibly handsome.

Loki was contemplating what he could do the next time he attempted to take over Midgard, when Tony, Clint and Thor entered. They seemed to be talking about something funny. Loki caught a snatch of Stark's voice as they came in.

"He did?!" asked Tony. "Seriously? And Odin rides it?"

Clint was laughing breathlessly. Thor was grinning.

"Well, Loki is here," said Thor. "Ask him."

Loki sat up.

"So, Reindeer Games, is it true that you got banged by a horse?" asked Tony.

Color shot up on Loki's face. "You TOLD them that?" he hissed at Thor.

Thor shrugged, looking sheepish. "They already knew. I merely confirmed the tale. Apparently Midgardian mythology books have done a very good job following all your- erm- adventures."

"Seriously?" laughed Tony. "You got pregnant by a horse? Damn man," he wiped away tears.

Loki's lip curled.

"I didn't," he said. "My mare form did."

"Yeah, okay," gasped Clint.

"Horse fetish," winked Tony.

Loki snarled. Pissed, he stormed out of the room (even thought technically storming was Thor's thing).

He ran up to his room and made a beeline for his bookshelf.

Ah, yes. He pulled out an ancient looking, leather bound book. He would get back at Thor for this. Revenge would be his and while Thor suffered his fate, the Hawk Eyed One and the Man of Iron would, too.

What seemed like the perfect opportunity to get back at Thor arrived that very afternoon.

Tony and Bruce were in their lab. Tasha and Clint were training. Steve was in the gym and Thor in his room stuffing his face with Pop Tarts.

Loki let out an evil snicker as he slipped into the kitchen with small phial he had prepared in his hand.

He rummaged in the cabinet where Thor kept his precious Pop Tarts and drew out a box. Grinning in the most diabolical way ever, he made a small incision in the packaging and tipped the phial's green contents over in it. Resealing the box with his magic, he crept out of the kitchen, wondering just how soon his prank would take effect.

Not long.

Tony and Bruce, tired but ecstatic over something they had just worked out, stomped into the kitchen, looking for a snack.

"I'm getting me some Pop Tarts," said Tony. "It's hard to get 'em in front of Thor, I haven't had them in a long time."

He reached up for a box.

Not very long after, Tasha and Clint headed into the kitchen. Seeing an open box of Pop Tarts on the counter, which Tony had forgotten to put back, they dug in.

Thor caught them eating the Pop Tarts.

Nat tossed him a pastry. He grinned and ate it.

As Nat and Clint headed out of the kitchen, Thor took the almost empty box and was about to follow them, before he crashed into Steve at the doorway.

"Ugh," they both said.

Thor apologized to Steve.

"That's okay," said Steve. "I don't get hurt easy."

"You want one?" asked Thor, thrusting the box of Pop Tarts at Steve.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind one," smiled Steve, taking the last pastry in the box.

Thor tossed the empty box in a bin.

Later, when Loki went into the kitchen to get some lunch, he saw the box lying in the bin. He grinned. Thor had probably munched up the whole box like a starving norx-draekon; all Loki had to do was wait three hours before the contents of his phial began his magic.

Loki stepped out of his room, his regal gait taking him to the living room, where he was certain Thor must have had been when the spell hit. 

As he approached, he was met with the sound of a child crying. He grinned. Good. It worked. But wait a minute. Surely that wasn't..another baby crying along? And another? Followed by...yet ANOTHER? It seemed to Loki as if an entire nursery had erupted.

He hurried along to the living room...

"Oh my living Laufey," he gasped.

A small, blond child was sitting on a massive hammer, howling his head off. A red haired girl was mercilessly pummeling a dark haired, dark eyed boy who was screaming and crying. A dirty blond tuft of hair was sticking out of the ventilator shaft, while a weak looking child wheezed in a corner, looking scared.

In fact, the only sober person in the room was a black haired little boy that stood by the weak kid, bending over in concern.


End file.
